#no matter how she changes or how she forgets

[lordofmelancholy]

Thoughts about Arcane Season2 and "bad writing" (Ramblings)

When you sit down and just think about it for a moment without people screaming in your ear

a lot of writing choices in Arcane make sense and works

Because they don't follow traditional tropes

they follow Real Life

Sometimes in life you dont talk to someone when you should Sometimes in life you dont make right decisions, or make right decisions people will think are wrong Sometimes in life bad people get away with things that you believe they shouldn't Sometimes in life people DIE in war you never expect Sometimes in life you dont NEED words to apologize, you need ACTIONS, especially in a world where words can be twisted and untrustworthy and not worth the dirt on your shoes.

I love Arcane SO MUCH because it does what no show really does anymore. It doesnt follow trope, it doesn't follow immediate reconciliation, or conversation or WHATEVER. It just lets these characters LIVE (and die) just like how the world turns.

No one is out of character because a person CAN NEVER BE out of character. You are never the same person day in and day out, your life REFUSES to allow you to do that because if it did you would NEVER adapt to change.

Its how you adapt to that change that is important Take Cait and how she is in Season 2 for an example

I don’t think it’s bad writing Not entirely One of the reasons I like Arcane is cause NO ONE is truly good or bad

(Cept maybe the few like Loris, Ekko)

Everyone is just morally grey, believing their doing right, but going about it in ways that aren’t

When they do right, they do right

When they do wrong you know it, but in the end I love that cause no creature, let alone people are ever one dimensional

But the ISSUES I’m having with the Caitvi side of the fandom is their ERASING what makes them good characters which is that MORAL dilemma side. So often you see people try to brush their issues under the rug, or water them down

AND THATS NOT WHAT ARCANE IS ABOUT it never was

Cait was Cassandra’s daughter The one person whose been there for her

Her death was basically what Silco said

It was the undoing of her daughter DO I like Cait

Yes I do She’s the perfect blend of morally delayed character that I love. But I don’t like what the fandom is DOING to her

Cait didn’t even honor her mother correctly when she went about her revenge

It doesn’t MATTER if she gassed just the chembarons and left the civilians alone It doesn’t MATTER if she thought she was doing right

Because she did something that Piltover ACTIVELY PROMISED THEY WOULD NEVER DO

She USED the gas, she used GREY

Piltover may have been absolute SHIT to Zaun But they at least KNEW that even the gas was too much Knew that if they used it they would hurt more then just the people they were aiming for

GAS doesn’t discriminate

It’s why even in the deadliest of war’s only the most vicious or determined to win EVER reverted to chemical warfare

Cait did it on a whim

But in the same breathe YOU cant only blame her

Blame Ambessa too She took a vulnerable person. Knew how to twist the tragedy she went through and turn it into something with her advantage

But people also seem to forget that Cait STILL had a moral code and she was learning from her mistakes

She CLOSED and forbade the use of the cells that Vi was subject to during her prison time

She called out Ambessa for instigating fights

SHE WAS FIGHTING WITH AMBESSA, turning her back on her when things got to terrible It wasn’t just

oh vi stared at her once and called her a petname

NO she was actively LOOKING for a way out from under Ambessa

and she found it

And it’s because of that I have to agree media literacy is at a all time low

Because if you ACTIVELY WATCH THE SHOW you realize things are not as face value cut-dry as they looked

S1 Cait NEVER left

S1 Cait is still present in S2 Cait

But the issue is we are seeing a side of Cait that is loosing her way and aligning herself with people who MAY act like their doing her right but aren’t and now she’s stuck in this loop of hell after hell after hell

Until the ONE greatest thing in her life, something that’s been constant in its support and love but not afraid to fight back with her when she thinks she’s wrong

came back

Vi came back during a time where Cait was once again lost in not knowing how to fix what she did wrong because now she was turning on Ambessa and had no one at her side

Vi literally just said cupcake and cait’s eyes widened to the point SHE ACTIVELY CRIES shortly after Vi called her that. Her eyes legit water if you look closely at her turn her head away.

And the best part is is Vi didnt just jump back into being steady with Cait

She didn’t trust her

until Caitlyn showed her she could be

[kathlare]

the race of resentment

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando is confronted with painful memories and unresolved jealousy during the Monaco Grand Prix.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: just fluff

May 27th, 2023 - Monte Carlo, Monaco

The Monaco Grand Prix was always a spectacle, but today it felt like the circus had come to town. Lando stood by the McLaren garage, feeling a familiar weight in his chest. The sun was high, the buzz of the crowd was deafening, and the engines of the cars reverberated in his bones. But none of that mattered. Not today.

He couldn't stop staring at Rodrigo. The guy who had what Lando couldn't—Amelie.

It didn’t matter that Lando had moved on. It didn’t matter that Amelie was long gone from his life, or that she was living her own whirlwind career. He couldn’t ignore that sour feeling in his gut every time he saw Rodrigo's face, knowing he was dating the girl that had once been his. The girl who, despite everything, had always held a piece of Lando’s heart.

The heat of Monaco wasn’t the only thing that made Lando feel like he was suffocating today. It was the fact that Rodrigo was standing there, just a few feet away, chatting with some of the other drivers like it was nothing. The McLaren team had invited him here, and now he was part of the show, in the spotlight, in the place Lando had worked his whole life to be—except it wasn’t just his career that Rodrigo was enjoying. No, he was also reaping the reward of Lando’s past. The past he couldn’t seem to shake off.

Lando had tried to forget about Amelie. Tried to focus on his racing. But no matter how fast he pushed, no matter how hard he fought to put the past behind him, it always seemed to find a way back into his life, usually when he least wanted it.

Rodrigo had it all—he was living the life Lando had dreamed of, in the most intimate way. With Amelie. His Amelie.

Lando's hands gripped the railing of the McLaren garage harder, his knuckles white. He couldn’t stop the bubbling resentment that threatened to break free. Rodrigo didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in this world. It wasn’t just the fact that he had Amelie, it was the way he carried himself—like he had earned the right to be here, to be in this space that Lando had fought tooth and nail for.

But he couldn’t change it, could he?

The two hadn’t spoken, not even once, since Rodrigo had joined them in Monaco. It wasn’t even an option—Lando wouldn’t make it easy for him. Every time Rodrigo flashed a smile or offered a handshake to someone, Lando would turn his head, his gaze cutting through the noise of the event, avoiding him at all costs. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to ignore Rodrigo’s presence, the guy kept showing up, almost like a ghost from his past. He couldn't escape it, and the worst part? Neither of them could pretend it was fine.

—You’re staring again,— Carlos Sainz teased, his voice cutting through Lando’s tense silence. He shot a knowing glance at the younger McLaren driver, his lips curling into a grin.

Lando rolled his eyes, unwilling to give Carlos the satisfaction of a response. Carlos knew. Everyone knew.

—Tell me you’re not still salty about Rodrigo,— Carlos smirked, leaning against the garage door, arms crossed. —Mate, you’ve been acting like a prick about him since he walked in.—

Lando’s jaw tightened. —I’m not being a prick,— he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince Carlos or himself. He glanced over at Rodrigo again. The guy was laughing with Charles Leclerc and some of the other drivers, his brown eyes sparkling with energy, completely at ease in the world that Lando had spent so many years fighting to belong to.

—He’s been with Amelie for over a year now,— Carlos continued, his voice quieter now, not wanting to make it too obvious. —You’re jealous, man. We all see it. I get it... Amelie meant a lot to you, and it still stings, but you’ve gotta let it go.—

Lando hated that Carlos was right. He hated that Rodrigo had stepped into a life he thought was his to claim, just like he’d always thought Amelie was too.

And yeah, maybe he was jealous. Not just of Rodrigo being with Amelie, but of everything Rodrigo had that Lando hadn’t been able to hold on to. Amelie, sure—but also the way Rodrigo seemed to live life with ease, his charm slipping him past the cracks where Lando had failed. And now, here they were, two men who had both, in different ways, cared about the same woman—and Lando was the one left standing in the shadows.

—I’m fine,— Lando said, but it came out more like a deflection than anything resembling confidence. His gaze flickered back to Rodrigo, who was now talking to Zak Brown, laughing and nodding in agreement like he belonged there. The nerve. —Let’s just focus on the race, okay?—

Carlos raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in Lando’s voice. —Sure, mate,— he said with a mock salute, but he didn’t press further.

Lando shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the seething jealousy and frustration that bubbled up every time he looked over at Rodrigo. But it was impossible. The guy was everywhere. It was like he was just… there, all the time, as if Lando couldn’t escape him, couldn’t escape the reminder of what he had lost.

Carlos, still watching him, finally sighed and shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. —You know, I never understood why you couldn’t just make peace with it. It’s been what, over a year? .—

—Shut up, Carlos,— Lando snapped, his voice a little harsher than he intended. But it didn’t matter. Carlos just raised his hands in mock surrender.

—Fine, fine,— Carlos said, shaking his head with a smile. —But don’t come crying to me when the wheels fall off, mate. It’s clear as day. You're still stuck in the past, and I’m just here to watch you make a fool of yourself.—

The words stung more than Lando was willing to admit. But he wasn’t about to let Carlos know that. Instead, he just grunted in response, pushing off the wall to make his way to the front of the garage. He had to focus. The race was coming, and he couldn’t afford to let his personal issues distract him. Not today.

But even as he stepped away, Lando couldn't stop himself from looking over at Rodrigo one last time. The way the guy stood there, smiling as if everything in his life was perfect, was a slap in the face. Lando had worked so damn hard to get to this point, and yet here was Rodrigo, breezing through it all with a charm that seemed to open doors for him without even trying.

It wasn’t fair.

As Lando moved closer to the pit lane, he could feel the tension mounting in his chest. The qualifying session was just around the corner, and he had to stay focused. The track was challenging, and he was going to need all his concentration to make it through Q1 without any more setbacks. But every time he closed his eyes, all he could think about was Rodrigo.

And Amelie.

God, he missed her. He missed the way things had been before everything fell apart. The late-night talks, the inside jokes, the little moments they shared. It all felt so far away now, like it had been a lifetime ago. He couldn’t help but wonder—if things had been different, would it have worked? Would he still have had a shot at something with her?

The sound of cars revving to life snapped him out of his thoughts. It was time to focus. No more distractions. He needed to prove himself today.

As Lando suited up, he felt a small sense of resolve wash over him. He wasn’t going to let anyone take this from him—not Rodrigo, not anyone. He had a race to win, and that’s what mattered now.

But as the cars lined up and the crowd roared in anticipation, Lando couldn’t shake the feeling that today wasn’t just about the race. It was about something deeper, something that had been festering beneath the surface for far too long.

Rodrigo might have Amelie, but Lando wasn’t going to let that define him. He wasn’t going to let his jealousy ruin this race.

Not today.

But as the lights went out and the cars surged forward, Lando couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the McLaren garage one last time. Rodrigo was still there, still standing like he owned the place, and Lando felt a surge of anger rush through him.

It was going to be a long day. And not just because of the race.

[inbooyork]

Oh Caitlyn, my captain:

An Exploration of Caitlyn Kiramman of Arcane

From doe eyed revolutionary to vengeful authoritarian. Caitlyn, born to an aristocratic family, once prided herself for differentiating from her peers, only to become worse than all.

Her story shares similarities with various privileged revolutionaries and allies. She acknowledged the systems but never truly grasped how it mutates their nature. She views their struggle as separate from herself and family’s influence.

Growing up privileged she clearly separated herself from the underprivileged: seen with her offhandedly comments at Jayce when younger or when she others zaunites. It is why she believes she could bring change through an oppressive system. She never truly understood what she fought for.

Making sense of why she and various hopefuls join the systems that oppress their allied groups. Under a misguided belief they could “fix” a fundamentally broken system, they make worse the oppression marginalised people face. It doesn’t matter how good a cop she deemed herself, her uniform and badge bear a history Zaun will not forget.

Her misunderstandings are what made it easy to abandon her activism. When she could no longer distance herself from those systems, when her counsellor mother was offed, she was unable to recognise the wrongs. Blinded by grief she fed into a system that had always been created to put down the oppressed.

[kdramacrybaby]

I’ve had my “wtf” moments with this drama before, but I’ve been able to forget a lot simply because the main couple is so good! And I’ve actually been having a blast watching this

So explain to me, how and why, Baek I-would-literally-kill-everyone-and-then-myself-to-protect-my-wife Sa-eon goes to an ACTIVE WAR ZONE fully KNOWING his wife will match the freak and go find him (especially since he makes it so obvious where he is) - he told her to stay put, but when has she EVER listened to him before? Bro what the fuck?

“I needed time to punish myself” are you kidding me? You leave her alone for 6 months with no word and did not even think about how that would punish her even more than you?? Were you just gonna pop back up in like a year’s time and go “hi yeah I’m still alive btw, can you forgive me for being an absolute dickhead again👉🏻👈🏻”

This whole new plotline is so unnecessary? Like what are we even doing in this last episode? Did I miss the setup for this whole thing somewhere?

Yes his family hurt Hee-joo and her family in a lot of ways, but she knows that he is just as much a victim of that family as she is? So why the melodrama my guy? Has she not repeatedly told you she loves you no matter what?!

I’m actually so salty about this

They try to soften me up with the cute as fuck ending with the new marriage and cute ass name change, but it’s NOT working (that much)

[howlsmovinglibrary]

hi, im sorry if this sounds stupid but like. how do you get your brain to switch from academia to fanfic. like when im done with my lab reports and finally have time to write i feel like a textbook mimicking human speech

hey anon! none of this is stupid at all, please don't feel bad for asking a question :)

i think i should preface by saying, I wasn't a girl in STEM. I'm an English lit girlie, so often my academic work got me thinking about stories, which made me want to write stories, and thinking about D&D which made BG3 the perfect outlet! I couldn't write a paper titled 'D&D vampires are weird, huh?' but I could write stories around those themes. So sometimes my fic just became a place for me to explore the stuff that interested me but had no place in my professional work, which obviously made it easy to generate ideas and content.

but I have my advice under the cut! (bc this accidentally became a long post lol).

what advice I can give, however, is advice that was given to me by another friend, who is also a PhD student. She said (in quite a clinical way, but that's the kind of person she is) that she saw her fic and her writing as 'building mastery' - which was something she'd learned in therapy. the idea that practising something and working at it makes you better at it but also makes you feel better about yourself, because you can find enjoyment in the hobby and see improvements in your work. she wrote fic, to see a progress and a learning curve she didn't see in academia.

Idk what STEM is like, but often my experience in academia left me feeling stupid or inadequate. everything I wrote there mattered, and it didn't always bring me joy. I actually started writing fic, because I had just finished my PhD funding applications, and after sinking 100+ hours into something that made me miserable, I just wanted to write words that were fun for a change.

it doesn't always feel like it, of course, but fic doesn't matter. it should be fun. it can be silly, it doesn't have to fit a wordcount, it can be whatever you want it to be and it's never getting assessed at the end. and - unlike academia - typically it only receives positive feedback. so I write fic, bc it doesn't make me feel like shit, even when academia does. it's a different ballgame, and it has a much lower stakes, and more forgiving relative curve. i like it, becuase i switch my brain off, and get to have fun and play around in a way i don't in acadeimia.

so I guess my advice for this particular question - other than "please rest", bc like the last person who asked me about this you sound a wee bit burned out beloved - is.... it's literally fine, if you sound like a human textbook. forget the words and how they're coming to you as you write them - are you having fun with the idea? do you like the positive feeling of writing them, and the positive feedback you get either from yourself or others? that's how i switch from academia into fic mode. I find something that i actually find recreationally enjoyable (lol, academia).

let go of all expectations, and just follow the story or plot noodle that itches the happy parts of your brain. don't let it be about quality at all.

and, in case I've misunderstood the question and this is actually more an issue of stylistics - my fic got wordier as a result of my academia. even worse, my ACADEMIA got wordier as a result of my fic!!! (when the adverb curse follows you into your day job lmao). I don't think there's any way to prevent crossing the streams. But you can be sillier in fic, so add some jokes! make the stupid reference! let everyone be a little less formal!

and, if all else fails, get a second pair of eyes :) maybe from someone outside of the institution. they can tell you if you've become a pretentious ass overnight or not x

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Scrap baby is just Michael’s little sister

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

kirbtober day 6 -royalty

king and queen.

[sieglinde-freud]

let it be known that i love prince inigo with my whole soul. however sometimes it is SO much fun to think about owain and his two most loyal-est knights you ever seen: worst guy in the world #1 and worst guy in the world #2. i love retainer inigo and severa so much. retainers who bully you and make fun of you and trash on you but they’d leave behind everyone and everything they ever knew to follow you and protect you in a whole new universe. they love you so much that they’d swear allegiance to total strangers but that loyalty pales in comparison to what they’d do for you. and they were all lovers!!!!!!!

[twelvemartha]

3.06 // 3.07

[protect-namine]

I actually have a fic idea but lc is a show that's like. you will never ever have all the information and context until the end. and I am a writer who writes best and more confidently when I have all the info and context at my fingertips. so now I'm just like 🧍‍♂️

anyway. ramble in the tags

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[her0maris]

apologies in advance i need to get a teeny bit Too Real for this one but. i lost someone irl and for a year or two afterwards i kept imagining what it’d be like to have her back again. but the thing is that everyone kept growing and changing and we were different now and losing her had changed us in ways that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. so i kept imagining the horror of like. she’s back and she’s exactly the same and we’re all different now and she doesn’t fit anymore. anyways i think you could make a really bangin fic by doing that with mari and the faraway gang

[halfhappyhooligan]

having lunch with mom today !!!!🍎🥪🥤

[rimouskis]

okay I've decided against pursuing any sort of diagnosis re: my growing suspicions I have ADHD/something of that ilk for a variety of reasons, but it will NEVER stop galling me how I lack object permanence. like a baby. I need to have clear storage containers because if I cannot see something I forget it exists. it's both a relief to know that there is a potential "explanation" for such behavior but also realizing that most other people can do convenient things (like: remembering the existence of stuff) is also FRUSTRATINGGGG because I wish that was me! imagine being able to remember things not only casually but well! imagine that! god!

[sunni-stuff]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Reader who gets pregnant off of a one night stand with some soldier during armed forces day, showing your appreciation for his service a little too well.

You had a support system, friends who joked about you having way too much fun, hence your predicament, others already offering to buy things for the baby and your parents who couldn't be happier to meet their grandchild.

But what about the father?

Well, it's not exactly like you could track him down. Fuck, you didn't even know the man's name, only how he made you feel, his filthy words strumming in your ear, big hands tight around your waist, hips slamming away in a desperate chase.

Let's forget how you leg-locked him.

When your daughter was born, everything changed, and time slowed down. She was a quiet baby, barely crying or having any outbursts like a normal child would but outspoken in her own little way. That chunky thing came out of the womb with a glare. Brown eyes staring down anyone and everyone but you.

That's something she definitely got from her father. You vividly remember how his umber eyes watching you from across the bar. He was like an eagle waiting for the perfect moment to strike his prey. A perfect soldier.

So, you named your daughter Adira in memory of his strength. That's one thing he could have.

Adira loved to be by your side. Her chubby cheeks pressed into the nook of your neck, holding you close with strength of a thousand babies. Your clingy little thing was a koala, always by her mommy's side, never straying far no matter how curious she got. When she learned to walk, her favorite thing became to hug your leg, especially while in stores. She hated people, wearing a tiny scowl whenever customers passed by tucking herself closer to you.

Maybe it was a good thing her father wasn't around. Having to compete for her first words would've been a bloodbath.

You spent two years in bliss. The fact that you were a single mother an afterthought to raising what you considered a blessing.

With Adira's second Christmas coming up, you wanted to do something special. She loved trains and found them absolutely amusing, often mimicking the honk as she ran around your apartment. Thankfully, there was a train ride for kids around the park during this time of year.

Here, you stood in line, bundled up to the nines. Big poofy coat, warm gloves, and fuzzy boots. As the crowd moved, Adira clung close, arms wrapped around your leg, glowering at any passerby with an annoyed look on her rosy cheeks.

That one was new. Maybe something else she got from her father.

The two of you took steps in tow, keeping Adira close and comfortable as the train came into view. Her expression shifted, excitement palpable. "Twain!" She squealed, jumping up and down.

Before you could respond to Adira's childlike joy, a man bumped into you by accident, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He turns to look at you, blue eyes meeting yours, but you were too focused on the weird ass Mohawk on his head.

People wore still those?

"Sorry bout that lass." The man starts to apologize, a Scottish accent lacing his voice.

That breaks your stare, laughing awkwardly to mask your wandering gaze. "Oh no, it's fine. You should be careful. you might slip on ice."

He nods, giving you a kind smile. The Scottish man starts to leave, but the look your kid was giving him sent shivers down his spine.

Little Adira was giving him a fierce stare down from behind your leg before ultimately cutting her eyes at him as if he were merely a nuisance.

"Next in line! Mctavish!"

The man doesn't stay after that. You assume that it was him they were calling with the way he hurried off. Hope he doesn't fall, seemed like a nice guy.

Soap can't help but do a double take when be gets to the front. The little rascal was wearing his Lieutenants face, hawk eyeing anyone who dared got to close. It was like looking in a mirror.

He nudged Gaz, making a gesture to look back without making it obvious. "See the lass and her bairn in line?"

Gaz gives him a raised brow, looking back for a second before turning around. "There's a lot of kids with their mother's, Johnny."

Soap glances back, double checking to make sure you were still in line. “The lass with the wee one—she’s got the same wicked look as Lt. You cannae miss her.”

Gaz rolls his eyes but humors Soap by looking once more, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on a little girl already mean-mugging him from a distance. He swiftly turns around, blinking in surprise, trying to comprehend what he saw. "Uh..."

Soap only nods in agreement. That was Ghost's face, on a kid no less. He wastes no time, elbowing Roach and getting him to look back as well, leaving the other Sergeant in the same shock as Gaz. "That is not a face a kid should have."

"Agreed." Gaz added, shuddering at the thought.

"Where's the cap?" Soap asks, the train ride no longer feeling like fun now that he’s discovered the jackpot.

"Market place with Lt. for cigs," Gaz knowingly remarked, remembering that Price had run out on their way here.

"Well, let's go show them a Christmas miracle," Soap shot up from his seat all too eagerly.

The sergeants just got their Christmas present.

[xiaofiaan]

always shit like this that has me feeling unbearably guilty for my choices and future actions